


Saltwater

by chai_pandemic17



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Artist Yamaguchi Tadashi, Blushing, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Breakfast, Christmas, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Cute Yamaguchi Tadashi, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Drawing, Eating, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Fireworks (Mentioned), Flirting, Flowers, Fluff, Foreshadowing, Gay, Holidays, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Japanese Culture, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Little Dialogue, M/M, Memories, Minor Original Character(s), Music, Nighttime, Nonverbal Communication, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, POV Tsukishima Kei, Painting, She laughs at them, Snow, Street food, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings, because i've been obsessed lately, but doesn't realize the full story, but i don't say what it is, movie theaters, nobody is homophobic here though don't worry, the flower shop lady knows they're in love, they watch supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29766867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chai_pandemic17/pseuds/chai_pandemic17
Summary: The holidays. The time of year that could either be the best, or the absolute worst. How will it go with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi alone in the household for the entire holiday break?It starts off with a movie theater, a voicemail, and a playlist.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Kudos: 2





	1. Playlist

**Author's Note:**

> I've finally begun writing once again! Please read "Be My Halo" - the much longer fanfic that this fic and the "Apple Trees" fic tie into. "Be My Halo" is centered around Hinata and Kageyama, as well as Oikawa and Iwaizumi, and Kuroo and Kenma. "Apple Trees" focuses on Asahi and Nishinoya. This fic focuses on Tsukishima and Yamaguchi.
> 
> I'm planning to continue writing this shorter, tie-in fics until I've gotten through as many of the Karasuno pairings as I can!
> 
> The setting: holiday break, during Hinata's first year.

_ (Tsukishima’s POV) _

The cool air of nighttime during winter in Japan brushed Tsukishima’s face as he stepped out of the theater. People brushed past him, and he let out a cloudy breath as he moved to the side, out of the way. For just a moment, he stood there, watching the stars slowly reveal themselves to him. They winked and danced as scenes from the movie they’d just watched flitted through his mind.

Tsukishima tucked his hands into his sweatshirt, finally feeling the cold seep into his bones, even though the back of his neck was damp with sweat. In his pocket, he bumped his phone, familiar and comforting. With another sigh, he turned away from the sky and pulled it out, clicking it on. He first saw the “Notifications Muted” message, of course; then, however, were the “Missed Call” and “New Voicemail” icons.

Before he could unlock his phone, a voice as familiar as his own called out to him. “Tsukki!” He looked up, blinking past his glasses.

Yamaguchi, green-haired and freckled, came into focus mere feet from him. He was much better dressed for the weather, having had the sense to pull a red flannel over his black hoodie and jeans, but his teeth chattered regardless as he grinned. Tsukki felt his muscles relax, though he hadn’t realized he’d been tense.

“Yamaguchi,” he greeted, receiving a grin in response.

“Did you like the movie?”

Knowing he’d follow, Tsukki tucked his phone back into his pocket for now and began to make his way toward the short row of parked cars across the otherwise quiet street. Street lamps casted pools of light around him, bouncing off his glasses as he looked, heavy-lidded, to first his left, then his right, before crossing.

He heard scuffing behind him as Yamaguchi dutifully followed, expectant. “Well?”

Tsukki briefly thought back.  _ Dinosaurs, big and monstrous, the results of near-perfect evolution. A marvelous plot in which many humans had fallen victim to the beautiful creatures. _ “It was okay.”

Yamaguchi’s laugh rang out, clear and true in the comfort of darkness.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” he said, more out of habit than anything.

_ “Gomen, _ Tsukki,” he grinned, sounding not at all like he’d meant it.

The familiarity did something to Tsukishima’s heart, then, though he’d never put it into words, even if he could. The car keys jingled in his hand as he pulled them out, and the small, silver, hand-me-down car beeped a greeting as they drew near. They went to their respective doors, one silent and the other humming, and opened them, letting the yellow light interrupt the darkness.

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

_ (Note: “Gomen” or “gomen ne” means something along the lines of “forgive me” or “pardon me”. The formal way to say this is “gomen nasai”, while the first two are more casual.) _

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

_ “Kei! Hey bud, I’m sure you’re used to this by now, but I just wanted to wish you and Tadashi Merry Christmas, since we won’t be here to do that, as usual. I know we already kinda celebrated it before we left, and it isn’t even Christmas Day yet, and… where was I going with this?” _ The two listened to the voice message from Tsukki’s phone as the car slowly heated up. Yamaguchi giggled.  _ “Anyways, Merry Christmas you two. Hold up the fort for the week, alright? Talk to you later!” _

Yamaguchi let out a short cheer before pulling his seatbelt into place with a click. “Your brother’s always been so nice to us! I’m glad we don’t have to go to some big Christmas party or anything…”

Tsukishima halfway listened to him speak, allowing himself just the slightest upwards quirk of his lips. Almost subconsciously, they slipped into the familiar rhythm. He pulled the car into gear and perfectly pulled it out and onto the road. It rumbled along the dark road, illuminated only by its headlights and the occasional street lamp, while Yamaguchi plugged in the AUX cord and selected a playlist.

As soon as the first song fazed into play, he knew which playlist it was, though he’d already guessed correctly beforehand: “Saltwater”. Most of Yamaguchi’s playlists, Tsukki had found after scrolling through them once while the other had been in the shower, were puns of sorts.

“Yellow”, for example, was the one he played if it was morning or springtime or the sky was bright, and Tsukki was grumpy. “WcDonald’s” was the one he played when they were on their way to a restaurant or a theater or even the grocery store, and Tsukki was grumpy. “Pepper” was the one he played at any time when  _ he _ was grumpy, which admittedly wasn’t often.

“Saltwater”, though, was the one Yamaguchi played on special occasions - at least, occasions special to  _ them. _ The moments they knew they’d remember best in, say, ten years. The quiet moments, the nostalgic moments, the times when they both were silently thinking of each other and the rhythms they fell into when they least expected it. Their relationship was built upon the silent language they’d built over the many years they’d known each other.

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

Every year since they’d met, back in junior high, Yamaguchi had spent Christmas at the Tsukishima household. Tsukki never asked why, but the answer came to him, anyways, when the other had showed up at his house unannounced one day. It had been almost a year since they’d met and become friends, and Yamaguchi had stayed over enough that it wasn’t any trouble this time around.

_ “Tsukki,” he’d cried, between wails. _

_ Tsukki had winced at his damp, red face, but dragged him to his room, anyways. They’d sat on his bed until Yamaguchi had calmed down, tightly hugging one of the many dinosaur plushies scattered around. He’d looked up, eyes rimmed with red, but thankfully now dry. _

_ “My family… we got into a fight. And Mom’s leaving, and she’s moving to America, and I’m staying here with Dad, and they’re mad at each other, and--” He’d broken down into tears again, burying his face into the soft, green plushie. _

_ I’d furrowed my brow, feeling uncomfortable, but something within me had twisted. I reached out a tentative hand to the then much smaller Yamaguchi and rested it on his back. I kept it there as he cried, looking grimly at the wall. _

Since then, it was an unspoken agreement that he would stay over as much as he could, to the point where it had become much more of his home than his house had ever been. We never received any complaints from his father, so we decided that until then, we’d take care of him. We spent every Christmas together, and for the past few years, we were old enough to be left home alone on the holidays, so it was routine by now.

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

When they finally arrived home, at Tsukki’s house, it had begun to snow. Yamaguchi hopped out into the cold, but didn’t seem to notice as he twirled and grinned, sticking his tongue out and letting a snowflake drift onto it. Tsukishima stepped out slower, but was nevertheless taking in the sight of the slowly whitening world around them. The car beeped and locked, but the house remained silent.

They crunched their way through the yard, and Yamaguchi blew on his hands and rubbed them together as Tsukki unlocked the door. He brushed gratefully past and into the warmer entranceway. Tsukki did the same, locking the door behind them and flicking on the lights. Yamaguchi’s cheeks and ears and nose were red with the cold, and even as he sniffed and tears leaked out of his eyes, he grinned.

“What time is it, Tsukki?” he asked as they kicked off their snowy shoes.

Tsukishima glanced at his phone.

The Tsukishima household wasn’t small, but it wasn’t huge, either. Once you stepped through the door from the entrance, you entered the living and dining room. On your right was a closet, and on your left was a door to the outdoor eating area, and just past that were the stairs leading upwards, and past that was the bathroom. The kitchen was on the far end, separated from the living room only by a half-wall.

The stairs led directly into the  _ tatami _ room, which was connected to a long hallway. From left to right, the four doors in this hallway led to Mrs. Tsukishima’s bedroom, Tsukki and Yamaguchi’s bedroom, a small bathroom, and Akiteru’s bedroom, respectively.

“It’s 9:30,” Tsukki told him as they headed up the stairs.

_ “Really? _ I’m still not used to it getting darker earlier this time of year…” As they crossed the  _ tatami _ room to the hallway, Yamaguchi’s growling stomach was as audible as his embarrassed giggling afterwards. “Wanna eat something later?”

Tsukishima hummed in vague agreement and pushed his bedroom door open. A bunk bed on the left took up most of the room. Across from it was a large, double-door wardrobe, and to its right were two desks lining the corner of the room. He sat on the lower bunk with a sigh, finally able to take off his damp sweatshirt and toss it into the laundry basket. Yamaguchi took off his own snowy clothes, and they soon followed. He sat beside Tsukki, still smiling faintly, and they flopped onto their backs simultaneously.

“How’s your battery, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima silently lifted up a hand, thinking. Yamaguchi smiled at the rare gesture of affection and took it, lacing their fingers together. The comforting weight of their joined hands, as well as the familiar territory of their room, sharpened Tsukki’s mind, and he was able to focus on and gauge his exhaustion.

“It’s okay,” he said, finally. He took off his glasses with his free hand and wiped them on his thankfully dry shirt before replacing them. “Let’s eat.”

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

_ (Note: “Tatami” is “a rush-covered straw mat forming a traditional Japanese floor covering”. “A tatami room is a fixture in washitsu, or traditional Japanese interior design. Once the mark of nobility, modern tatami rooms serve as study areas in temples and as living or sleeping areas in homes.”) _


	2. Acrylic

_(Yamaguchi's POV)_

The pair sat side-by-side on the lower bunk, the curtain drawn around it, with a tall stool placed just inside the curtain, upon which rested the laptop. The glow from the screen dimly illuminated their faces, flickering with changing colors as it changed from scene to scene. A speaker hung above them on a plastic hook, connected via Bluetooth to the laptop for better sound.

Yamaguchi had given it to Tsukki as a gift last Christmas, and it had moved around the room before settling in its current spot after just a few weeks. Since then, after what must have been a hundred movies, they’d gotten used to the way the sound reverberated through the wooden bunk bed frame. At first, the odd directions some sounds were thrown - water splashing, for example, or glass breaking - had made Yamaguchi jump or shiver.

Now, they watched as two brothers traversed the country, slashing demons and banishing ghosts and slaying vampires and waging war against _angels_ , of all things. It was an American show, so they had to put on Japanese subtitles, but it was very good, regardless. Though there were no dinosaurs - at least, not yet - Tsukki seemed to be enjoying it. He hadn’t complained once since season four, and he’d never checked his phone during an episode. Yamaguchi took those as good things, and smiled a little, turning back to the screen with his head resting on the other’s shoulder.

Their sides pressed together, and the warmth, though familiar and grounding, threw just as much fireworks into Yamaguchi’s stomach as it had the first time. Wordlessly, he snaked his arm under Tsukki’s, finding his hand where it had been resting on his knee. Their fingers intertwined, and Tsukki allowed it with a barely audible exhale.

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

“How many episodes was that tonight?” Yamaguchi asked as he slid from the bunk, shutting the laptop.

Tsukki, already out, stretched his long limbs, arching his back. Yamaguchi swallowed at the patch of pale skin visible at his stomach, and busied himself with moving the stool back into the corner of the room as he waited for a response. Tsukki was wiping his glasses on his shirt when he turned back around, squinting down.

“Three,” he said, finally. “And the one this morning.”

Yamaguchi grinned as he stepped closer, taking Tsukki’s glasses gently before he could put them back on. Knowing what was coming, he stood patiently, looking just slightly down at Yamaguchi with squinting amber eyes in the darkness. As promised, he wrapped his arms around Tsukki’s bony ribs, sliding his hands up his back and fingering at the short, blond hair at the top of his neck.

“Tadashi.”

Their noses bumped, then their foreheads, as they paused for a moment, simply breathing together with closed eyes.

“Tadashi,” Tsukki said again, this time a whisper, and Yamaguchi gave him what had been silently promised.

Their lips brushed, then met, slightly parted, soft, and warm. They moved against each other, tasting of toothpaste and faintly like the candy they’d shared at the theater earlier that night. They were swept up into a rhythm as familiar as the backs of each other’s hands, as steady as their matching heartbeats, and as private as the darkness of their shared room. It was midnight, now, and they stood there in each other’s arms. A fan they hadn’t yet gotten around to shutting off whirred, while their hearts pounded, and the room lit by the yellow, crescent moon-shaped night light Yamaguchi had insisted had to be plugged in if he was going to be able to sleep.

“Kei-” he finally gasped into the other’s mouth, between deepening kisses.

Fingers found their way into long, green hair and buried into it, brushing sensitive scalp that made Yamaguchi gasp. He pulled away, but kept his arms around Tsukki, instead burying his head into the crook of his neck. Tsukki’s hands stayed where they were, one in his hair and the other at his waist.

“It’s late.”

Yamaguchi smiled and hummed against Tsukki’s skin at the roughness of his voice, relishing it. He pulled back, just enough to look up into his eyes, heavy-lidded with sleepiness and the high of oxytocin. There was a blush high on his cheeks and on the tips of his ears, faint but ever so slightly visible in the darkness of the room at this proximity.

“Let’s-” Yamaguchi was caught off guard by his own hoarse voice and had to clear his throat, glancing away for a moment, embarrassed. “Let’s go to bed.”  
  


The corners of Tsukki’s mouth quirked up ever so slightly, and his amused exhale made Yamaguchi’s hair flutter on his forehead.

  
“Yeah.”

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

_(Tsukishima’s POV)_

Yamaguchi liked to talk as he fell asleep. It was a quirk that Tsukishima had noticed a long time ago, and had since grown to almost rely on as he himself drifted off. He felt the vibrations in Yamaguchi’s chest, with his head held against it with soft but strong hands. His own arms enveloped the other’s waist, holding him close as he spoke softly.

It wasn’t quite a whisper, but it was quiet, gently filling the room like a lullaby. He rambled on about the day, mostly what he’d thought about the movie and the episodes they’d watched that day. But sometimes he talked about other things.

“Once,” he murmured, “we watched as many scary movies as we dared in the middle of the night. I couldn’t fall asleep until the morning afterwards, but now it’s one of my favorite memories. Us, young and terrified, clinging together as we made ourselves stare at the little screen of your phone.”  
  
Tsukki remembered, but he was drifting away already, too far gone to reply in any way. Yamaguchi didn’t mind - he never expected him to reply, and didn’t want him to, anyways. They both knew that if he did, he’d wake himself up too much.

Yamaguchi continued, a fraction quieter. “I think it was around Halloween, that night. I guess you couldn’t fall asleep until daylight, either, because when I woke up the next evening, you were clinging to me like you could never let go. I think that was the first time we slept in each other’s arms.”

His voice slipped into a hum in Tsukki’s ears, drifting around him like the blanket they’d draped across themselves. The sound and pattern melded into one, the vibrations falling into a heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest swirling into the ocean’s waves…

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi gasped the next morning over breakfast.

Tsukishima had cooked this time, simple scrambled eggs with rice left over from the other day. They sat beside each other on one side of the dining table - the side facing the TV on the wall. On their right was the kitchen, but they resolutely ignored the dirty dishes until what would likely end up being that evening.

Tsukki glanced to his left at the phone Yamaguchi was holding up to his face. He chewed as he read the screen, squinting, before looking at him with slightly widened eyes.

“You got a commission,” he said after swallowing, stating the obvious.

“My first _big_ commission! Can you believe it!? It’s not just somebody asking for a painting to hang on their wall - it’s a _storefront!”_ Yamaguchi babbled, forgetting about his food and waving his phone around before bringing it back in front of him, furiously tapping out a reply.

Tsukki ate faster, knowing he’d want to leave as soon as possible.

Yamaguchi was a painter at heart. Though he’d begun to love volleyball, and was working hard to improve in his position as pinch server, he’d been painting ever since he’d found the stash of them buried in Tsukishima’s closet one day. Of course, he hadn’t been the best at the time. But over the years, he’d watched as Yamaguchi’s skills grew at an absurd rate, and he’d begun to accept commissions just last year.

He’d grown more and more popular over time, though he was still a relatively small artist. But this was a big step, they both knew: painting a storefront would alert the local community of his skills and ability to be hired. And especially so since the shop was on a street known for its many pedestrians.

Yamaguchi was a beautiful painter. If he could, he would have painted murals on Tsukishima’s walls, but however much they’d both desired it, they knew he shouldn’t. Instead, he saved up whatever he had and bought the biggest canvases he could, bringing them outside and painting his heart’s desires. He’d spend days, sometimes even _weeks_ on his paintings, and hang them throughout the Tsukishima household.

There were portraits of the family, and of teammates. There were beautiful mimicries of paintings famous in English and American countries, like _Starry Night_ by Van Gogh, the clock from _Persistence of Memory_ by Salvador Dali, and even a black and white portrait of Michaelangelo’s sculpture of David.

They weren’t perfect, but they were molded into his own beautiful and usually vibrant style. He had a handful of mimicries, but he preferred to paint on his own - using people, usually, as references. He painted hands and faces with reds and blues and purples and whites and yellows and browns.

But most of all, Yamaguchi painted Tsukki. Often, he was forced to stay still and be a patient subject as Yamaguchi worked, fingers soft and voice bright as he hummed along to music playing in the background. They were used to the room smelling like acrylic paint by now, though they’d set up a fan to keep the air moving, and they opened the window when it wasn’t too cold.

Tsukishima finished eating, and stood with a huff, carrying their dishes to the kitchen.


	3. Flowers

_(Yamaguchi's POV)_

The world flew by the car window as Tsukki drove. _What a strange phrase,_ Yamaguchi thought, smiling. It was familiar enough that your eyes skimmed over it on the page, but when you really thought about it, it was beautiful and terrifying all at once. The thought of the world parting from the tires on the road, lifting away, and simply soaring past as if it were a great cloud through an airplane window. The "Yellow" playlist played in the background as they rode, bright and nervous and anticipating, heading towards the shop that had commissioned Yamaguchi just that morning.

"Tsukki," Yamaguchi began, as they neared the shopping streets. "Let's park here - at the movie theater we went to last night! It doesn't seem too crowded."

Tsukki just hummed, already turning the car toward the chosen place.

Soon, they were parked and shutting the doors, hearing the familiar beep as it locked. Yamaguchi knelt beside Tsukki on the sidewalk, quickly retying his shoes. Then he rose and, with a reddening nose, grinned, pulling his white jacket closer around him. Tsukki handed him his duffel bag, which he took and slung over his shoulder. Then they stood, side by side, taking a simultaneous deep breath of preparation.

They were on the main street, which was always a popular place for pedestrians. The sun shone down on the shops that lined the street, the power lines and dark street lamps, the swarms of people that passed them, moving up and down the sidewalk like ants. With their bright coats and chatter and bubbly laughter, they streamed in and out of doors, hesitantly or boldly as if they owned the place.

They had left the movie theater behind as they walked a couple minutes ago, but there was another one, here - bigger and more popular, but more crowded. There were a few street vendors, selling hot holiday specials that warmed you up from the inside-out. Yamaguchi's mouth watered, but he managed to tear his gaze away from a hot _yakiimo_ vendor.

There was a grocery store, a school supply store, a tattoo parlor, and a few other shops Yamaguchi wasn't sure about, each of which he pointed out for Tsukki. All the swarming colors were almost too much, but over the years, he had gotten more or less used to it. Tsukki, on the other hand, grimaced, and pulled his white headphones over his ears almost immediately to drown out the sounds, if not the overwhelming visuals.

The sharp winter air stung their faces as they walked, resigning to be pressed up against each other as they walked, hidden from most judging eyes by the bustling crowds around them. Finally, _finally_ , they came upon their destination, and the chill that had seeped into their bones seemed to fade away slightly as they saw it. The bitterness simply had no place, here.

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

_(Note: "Yakiimo" is a roasted potato, usually sold in Asian countries during winter at street vendors. Here is a passage about it_ _: "If you're in Japan during the winter season you might have seen street vendors roast potatoes on coals. There are even yakiimo carts with a real fire. You're lucky if you spot one! Most of the time they are standard sweet potatoes, but Japan has a large variety of potatoes that differ in taste. It's wrapped in tinfoil and baked with its skin. This warm and sweet snack is delicious on a cold winter day, and the roasted skin makes the outside nice and crispy. Just follow your nose to find this popular Japan winter street food!"_

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

_(Tsukishima's POV)_

During their walk towards the shop, Tsukishima had tried, as always, to drown out the world around him with his headphones. The sounds calmed his mind, relaxed the jitter that settled in his fingertips, and loosened the wound-up muscles in his shoulders that had threatened to climb up to his ears. He'd breathed deeply, wincing again at the sharp air that stabbed at his lungs, reminding him just how much he despised being out during winter.

 _"Count with me, alright?"_ He heard Yamaguchi's voice whenever they brushed up against each other. _"Can you find five things you can see?"_

A trash bin. A red sign with glittering old lettering. A western Santa hat. The yellow light on a street vendor. A kid being pulled along by his mother.

Tsukki went through each - sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste - hearing Yamaguchi's voice all the way. Finally, his heart rate settled, his breathing steadied, and he found himself standing in front of the place that had commissioned Yamaguchi. He pulled off his headphones in time to hear him gasp in delight.

The flower shop was quiet, and looked almost dusty in the winter light. The fabric awning was a dark, faded green, and had _"Bright and Blooming"_ written on it in flaking _kanji_. The single glass door had a "Closed" sign on it, and was surrounded by empty pots and trays that would contain dozens of beautiful plants in the spring. Above the shop was a very plain-looking concrete wall, empty and foreboding.

Yamaguchi glanced towards Tsukki almost anxiously, who sighed and stepped towards the shop first. He briefly worried about how they would be seen, two boys stepping into a flower shop together, before relaxing by reminding himself that the shop was very obviously closed. They reached the door and he pressed the doorbell, hearing it ring distantly.

Soon, they heard footsteps, and the grinning face of a kind young woman appeared in the glass doorway. She wore a long, brown, warm-looking cloak that almost covered her winter boots, and had round, dark glasses that matched her rounded face and dark hair pulled up into a loose bun. She unlocked the door for them with a jingle of keys, and opened it, beckoning them in.

As they passed her in their entrance, they bowed their heads respectfully, and Yamaguchi accompanied this with a polite smile. They noticed immediately how much warmer it was inside, and breathed in gratefully.

"Hello!" she greeted once they were inside and the door was safely shut against the cold.

The inside was small, but clearly empty: the shelves were bare, there were stacks of clean - but dusty - plant pots, and the desk was devoid of any personality, save for a bright pink binder stuffed full of papers. The floor was wood panelling, and the walls were a white tile that looked like it should have something covering it, like photographs or paintings.

"So you must be..." she began, looking between the two expectantly.

Tsukishima glanced toward Yamaguchi, who was very obviously about to combust from nervousness, his freckles disappearing on pink cheeks. He bowed deeper than necessary, holding his duffel out of the way, _ahoge_ flapping.

"M - my name is Yamaguchi Tadashi! Thank you very much for commissioning me, miss!" He straightened, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet, breathless.

She laughed. "Well alright then! And you are..?" she asked, turning to me with a raised eyebrow.

"Tsukishima Kei," he said, simply and almost rudely, inclining his head.

"He's a friend - accompanying me!" the other rushed to add, kicking Tsukki's ankle.

She laughed again, turning to sit behind the desk and sliding the pink binder towards herself. "My name is Hanabusa Ichika, but you can just call me Hana. Thank you for coming, and welcome to my shop! I can't wait to get started!"

~•°•°--------------------°•°•~

_(Note: "Kanji" is "a system of Japanese writing using Chinese characters."_

_"Ahoge", "literally 'stupid hair,' refers to a strand of hair that springs upwards from the character's head. A rebellious hair that doesn't conform to the rest of the head hairstyle, and, sometimes, appears to defy gravity and other laws of physics. In English, 'cow lick' refers to something similar."_

_"Hanabusa" is a common surname that roughly translates to "flower room"._

_"Ichika" is a common female name that roughly translates to "one thousand flowers"._

_"Hana" is a common female name in many cultures that translates to "flower".)_

~•°•°--------------------°•°•~

_(Yamaguchi's POV)_

Hana opened the binder, flipping through pages and babbling the whole time. "So obviously I was thinking something bright and flowery, but perhaps something that could be used all year long because I don't think I'll be able to afford having it repainted each season. So lots of different colors, mostly green, though - something that roughly stays within a rectangle but it would look _so_ pretty if some petals and leaves came out of the border--"

Suddenly, Yamaguchi brightened, having just seen the concepts sketched in the binder, and all but leapt over.

"Here, let me try drawing some concepts for you!" he said, settling into a stool across from her, still slightly nervous. She grinned and handed him the binder as he dug through his duffel on the other stool, fishing out a sketchbook and a package of colored pencils.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tsukishima sigh quietly and tug his headphones back on before pulling out his phone and turning away. Hana laughed quietly - almost knowingly, which made Yamaguchi look up at her from his frantic sketches. Her eyebrow was quirked up again, reminding him a bit of Tsukki. He blinked.

"You're in love, aren't you?" she asked with a smile.

Yamaguchi jolted, accidentally knocking the package of colored pencils to the floor. A long, pale hand picked them up off the floor and set them back on the counter before he could even lean down. He looked up at Tsukki and smiled sheepishly, wondering how he'd gotten there so fast.

 _"Gomen,_ Tsukki," he said, the words quickly becoming a fidget of his tongue.

The other rolled his eyes down at him turned away, slumping against a wall and becoming fixed on his phone screen. Yamaguchi tore his eyes away and turned back to Hana, only then realizing he was smiling. He cleared his throat, embarrassed, and looked back down at his notebook, scribbling in a flower petal almost absentmindedly.

"How... what makes you think that?" he asks, knowing how clear of a lie it sounded but not knowing what else to say.

She laughs yet again, letting her chin rest in her hand. "I run a flower shop," she says, not unkindly. "I can tell. But don't worry, I won't say anything to anybody."

Yamaguchi flushes, staring pointedly down at the paper, watching flowers flow from the tip of his colored pencil, staying mostly within the sharp lines of the rectangle he'd drawn first. Then he clears his throat, looking up as boldly as he can.

"It - it's not as hopeless as you think," he starts. "We're already together."

Both of her eyebrows raise this time. "And you're pining after each other _that much_ still? Wow - you two must be very new."

"It's actually been a few years, now..."

Hana lets out an odd noise of shock and exasperation. "Well, are you always like this, then?"

"Like what?" Tsukki asks, suddenly beside Yamaguchi, staring inconspicuously down at Yamaguchi's partially finished artwork.

"Like--" She stops, suddenly, only then realizing it wasn't Yamaguchi who had spoken. She widens her eyes, looking at Yamaguchi, whose head has fallen into his arms. He waves her on in resignation, but they can both see the pink tips of his ears. "Like you're both madly in love with your best friend, but can't say anything!" she finishes, like a confession.

Yamaguchi turns his head to see Tsukki's reaction, which is just that familiar quirk of a brow and downturned lips.

"We're gay Japanese men in public."

"Ah," Hana said, also flushing. "I see."

Tsukki turned to Yamaguchi, who opened his mouth to say _gomen_ again, but was interrupted.

"I like this design," he said, gesturing to what Yamaguchi had been sketching. The compliment was unexpected, and received with splutters and a red face and a stammered "thank you".

Hana laughed again, feeling as if she'd been released from an iron cage of glaring eyes.


	4. Scaffold

_(Tsukishima's POV)_

"I can start today, if you'd like?" Yamaguchi asked, after he and Hana had spent the better part of an hour deciding on a concept.

Tsukishima thought that everything he had drawn was good, though he told himself he wouldn't say so, especially after surprising even himself by complimenting Yamaguchi earlier. The one they'd decided on had a mint background, covered in sunflowers, morning glories, lotus flowers, irises, lavender, roses, carnations, camellia, violets, tulips, and, of course, cherry blossoms.

The purple flowers began at the bottom, scattered here and there with blue morning glories, all fading upwards into the pink flowers. Those were dotted with reds, and, at the very top, the bright, warm yellow of the sunflowers. The latter danced around a neat little area reserved for the name of the shop to be painted in curving white letters. Some petals broke the rectangular border - particularly the sunflowers at the top - and some were completely outside, floating as if they had been shaken from their flowers.

Even just with the colored pencils, it was obvious that it would be extremely beautiful, painted boldly above the flower shop. They had learned that Hana lived in the floor upstairs when the shop was open. There were, thankfully, no windows on the brick wall Yamaguchi was to paint, since she had bricked them over for privacy.

Tsukishima removed his glasses and wiped them on his sweatshirt as he listened to the two talk.

"It's only, uh..." Yamaguchi continued, trailing off.

"One thirty."

"Ah, yeah! Thanks, Tsukki," he grinned, before turning back to Hana and her raised brows. "So we can go get lunch and come back at a little past two!"

She rose to her feet with a matching grin, closing the binder with a snap. "Then it's decided! While you two do that, I'll set you up a space just outside. When I bricked over the windows - myself, I might add - I bought a sort of portable scaffold platform that I think would work well."

Yamaguchi bowed rapidly. "Thank you very much, Hana, really!"

Tsukishima watched as she laughed. "It's no problem at all!"

He pulled his headphones back on, having finished cleaning his glasses. On his phone, he selected "Thunderstorm" - the playlist he and Yamaguchi constantly added to. It had the largest amount of songs: ones they heard over the radio and liked, favorites from each of the other playlists, songs they had rediscovered from their childhood, and even a few of their favorite movie soundtracks.

Since it had such a sheer amount of run time, it was the playlist Tsukishima listened to most often, usually to block out outside noise. He wondered for a moment if Yamaguchi knew this, before the music began and drowned out everything else. He closed out of a tab on his phone, catching one last glimpse of the words "commission" and "tattoo" before he did so. Then, resisting the urge to just close his eyes and become dead to the world, Tsukishima stood with his hands in his pockets and watched Yamaguchi gather his stuff and say goodbye to Hana.

Tsukki pushed himself away from the wall, nodded to Hana as he passed, and took Yamaguchi's duffel from him without a word, slinging it over his shoulder and pushing open the door. He faintly heard the other call one last goodbye before shutting the door behind them. The cold temperature was slightly tamer, now, but still felt like a slap in the face as he squinted behind his glasses at the solid white sky.

A familiar tug on his upper sleeve prompted Tsukishima to glance at the grinning, freckled face coming up beside him. The corner of his own mouth twitched, but he hid it behind his hand as he pulled one speaker away from his ears to better hear Yamaguchi speak. He was babbling about how excited he was to begin painting and didn't he like the final concept they'd come up with?

Tsukishima hummed in response, knowing he'd understand, and hoisted the duffel higher once they began walking. "Where are we eating?" he asked during a lull.

Yamaguchi hummed, this time. "Well... it'd be warmer if we went in somewhere, but on the way here I saw a street vendor selling _yakiimo..."_

"I know a place," Tsukki said. "Come on."

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

_(Note: The flowers listed on the concept sketches are popular flowers in Japan.)_

~•°•°-----------------------°•°•~

_(Yamaguchi's POV)_

Yamaguchi sighed in pure bliss as he felt the warmth from the _takoyaki_ spread from his belly. Tsukki had led him into an orange and gold-themed, mostly indoor street food stall, nestled between the tattoo parlor and a clothing store that specialized in women's fashion. It was warmer, here, with the multi-colored lanterns and the sizzling of meat, dough, and noodles being fried behind the counter giving the whole place a cozy and delicious aura.

The tables around them - and the stools at the counter - were stuffed with people chattering and enjoying their meals, but not uncomfortably so. The smell was something else: savory and bready and wholly umami. The smoke and steam from the grills billows out into the street, and would be beautiful in the glow of night.

"I've never been here before!" Yamaguchi said, before lifting another _takoyaki_ ball with his chopsticks.

Tsukishima shifted, suddenly feeling pins and needles in his legs from kneeling, and decided to sit cross-legged instead. "I've been once or twice," he said, having finished his _oden_.

Yamaguchi swallowed yet another bite. "Well, we should come here again sometime. At night, maybe! It's been _ages_ since I've explored the shopping districts at night. I think the last time I really had the time was last summer at the Nagaoka fireworks festival in Niigata. Remember?"

Tsukishima's eyes flitted up to the ceiling for a moment as he remembered. The fireworks festival was one of the most popular in Japan, and one of the biggest, especially with its massive fireworks. The finale was the bit he could picture the clearest, what with the sheer size, spanning a huge length of the Shinano River. He could smell the smoke and the street food, and hear the crackles and booms of the fireworks setting off, see the near-blinding lights... It had been almost too overwhelming.

"Yeah," Tsukishima replied, simply.

Yamaguchi glanced down at his plate for a moment, then looked back up at him. "Hey, Tsukki?"

He picked at a piece of rice on his plate with his chopsticks and looked at him, urging him to continue.

"Uh... I'm not sure if I should apologize or say thank you for everything back at the flower shop."

"What do you mean?"

"Well - with Hana. About, you know - us." Yamaguchi quickly shoved another _takoyaki_ into his mouth and chewed with reddening cheeks.

"She was curious, but getting intrusive," Tsukishima began, bluntly. "So I told her an answer."

"'An'?" Yamaguchi asked, with one hand covering his still-full mouth.

Tsukki looked at him with an odd expression - a mixture of amusement and simple curiosity. "It's been a few years, now, like you said. And while we've known each other for much longer than that, and know our way around each other, it still feels new. For... both of us. We don't know exactly what the boundaries are, so you look at me how you do. So, yes, 'an' answer."

Yamaguchi flushed, fidgeting with his chopsticks, not knowing what to say.

"Let's talk when we get home," Tsukki said.

The other looked back up at him, grateful. "Okay!"

While Yamaguchi ate, the other pulled out his phone and furrowed at it. He unlocked it and typed something out - seemingly replying to someone. Yamaguchi raised a brow but otherwise didn’t ask about it. Then the phone disappeared, and the food was nearly gone. Tsukishima waited until Yamaguchi had finished eating, and they rearranged their dishes to their original position.

 _"Gochisosama deshita,"_ they said in unison, bowing their heads slightly to the table.

Then they stood, and Yamaguchi gathered his duffel as Tsukishima paid. When they exited the shop, Tsukki handed Yamaguchi a small bag in exchange for his duffel. He peeked in the bag while they walked, curiously.

"It's _taiyaki,"_ Tsukki said, his headphones around his neck. "For later, while you're painting."

Yamaguchi looked at him in surprise. "Thanks!"

"Shut up, Yamaguchi."

 _"Gomen,_ Tsukki."

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

_(Note: "Takoyaki" "or 'octopus balls' is a ball-shaped Japanese snack made of a wheat flour-based batter and cooked in a special molded pan. It is typically filled with minced or diced octopus (tako), tempura scraps (tenkasu), pickled ginger (beni shoga), and green onion (negi). The balls are brushed with takoyaki sauce (similar to Worcestershire sauce) and mayonnaise, and then sprinkled with green laver (aonori) and shavings of dried bonito (katsuobushi)._

_"Oden" is "a winter dish of meats, fish, and vegetable items stewed in a light broth for a very long time. Good for warming up on a cold night."_

_Nagaoka Fireworks Festival: "First started in 1946 as a war-damage reconstruction event to mourn the deceased of WWII, the Nagaoka Fireworks Festival in Niigata Prefecture carries on the spirit of Japan through the decades."_

_"Taiyaki" is "a Japanese fish-shaped cake, commonly sold as street food. It imitates the shape of tai (red seabream), which it is named after. The most common filling is red bean paste that is made from sweetened azuki beans. Other common fillings may be custard, chocolate, cheese, or sweet potato.")_

~•°•°---------------------°•°•~

When they arrived back at the flower shop, it was just a few minutes past two in the afternoon. It being the middle of winter, it wasn't the brightest out, but it wasn't dark, either. So, they could clearly see the setup that Hana had created for Yamaguchi.

A rolling scaffold platform had been secured in front of the door, and it comfortably reached the area that was to be painted. Yamaguchi gulped at the height, but the platform had secure railings, and really wasn't even that high up, given that the flower shop was fairly short.

The fabric awning had been taken down so that the platform could be nearly flush against the wall, which meant that the front door was blocked. From the roof, which was flat and appeared to be accessible via the fire escape, a mock awning had been propped up, from which clear plastic "walls" hung, surrounding the platform.

The pair surveyed the setup for a moment. Tsukki moved first, toward the front door, to read the paper that had been taped up from the inside. When Yamaguchi joined him, he could see that it read "The back door is by the fire escape!" in neat Sharpie. Yamaguchi glanced at Tsukki with raised eyebrows, and they dutifully made their way around the building to the back.

The fire escape came into view as they rounded the corner: a worn but sturdy-looking circular staircase of black metal that twirled its way upwards to the roof. Even here, empty planters hung from the railings, begging to be filled with twisting and hanging vines. And just beside the stairs, as promised, was the back door, greyish-green and windowless.

Yamaguchi stood behind Tsukki as he gripped the handle and turned, pulling it open with a grunt.


End file.
